


Beloved Confessions

by Xenjn



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Confessions, Fluff, M/M, Soriku - Freeform, Wall Makeouts, heavy makeouts, set at the very end of DDD, these two love each other so goddamn much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-10 05:18:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13495720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xenjn/pseuds/Xenjn
Summary: Riku can’t help but feel like his skin should be marked in all the places Sora has ever touched him.Post DDD





	Beloved Confessions

**Author's Note:**

> Once upon a time I was really into the kingdom hearts fandom, then I stopped because of REASONS. Anyway my best friend started reblogging SoRiku shit and don't ask me how it happened but somehow that ended with me sitting at my computer for _five hours_ watching all the cutscenes of DDD and having more emotions than I could handle. And this happened. 
> 
> This fic is set RIIIIIGHT at the very end, right before Sora leaves, slight spoilers I guess? 
> 
> For Sarai who started all of this, encouraged it, beta'd it, and laughed manically the entire time because she's _evil_.

Riku can’t help but feel like his skin should be marked in all the places Sora has ever touched him. It’s all he can think of as Master Yen Sid’s words slowly sink in, as the weight of Sora’s arm wrapped around his shoulders falls away. That there should be some kind of mark left behind, like a sunburn of reddened skin to prove the touch existed. Something tangible, visible, something aching and _real._

Yen Sid is still talking, somewhere Riku can hear it, the low baritone of his voice full of unfathomable power. His eternal, all knowing eyes seem to stare into the spaces between them, as if he’s speaking to more than just the pair of them, as if he’s calling out to the universe itself. Riku wonders if the wizard can see through him, if he can tell that despite everything, he’s stopped listening. It’s unintentional, unavoidable, there’s a roar within his ears that keeps his focus forever out of reach, the ocean in Sora’s heart echoes around him as though he were still standing upon its shores.

Maybe it’s because he’s right here, right beside the brunet, who all but vibrates with excitement, who’s so _close_ that if Riku just twitches his fingers, he knows their hands will meet. That must be why he swears he can still scent salt and brine in the air, why he can taste the bittersweet sharpness of the Papou fruit on his tongue, like a distant memory, replaying again and again in his mind.

The joy of being named the one, true keyblade master pales in comparison to the simple pleasure of standing beside Sora again, _truly_ beside him, instead of forever reaching out into the darkness, feeling for the warm pulsing melody of their connection. 

Then Axel-Lea starts talking, something about becoming a keyblade master himself and all Riku can think is that there’s a tidal wave of emotion that’s been building within him ever since he opened his eyes to the ceiling of Yen Sid’s tower, that there’s one final thing left undone, something left unsaid, his throat burning with every glance  he chances at Sora’s grinning profile.

And then it hits him. It’s time. The epiphany nearly makes him falter, breath catching, eyes wide and unseeing as Lea summons a keyblade, the whole of the scene before him dwarfed by the realization that he’s ready. He’s finally, _truly_ ready to tell Sora.

Riku’s no longer afraid to admit the truth that’s been following him for so long, echoing clear and melodic in his heart. More than anything, he realizes that he _needs_ to say it, _needs_ to tell Sora that every time he looks at him he thinks; _beloved._

He isn’t sure how he manages to pull Sora away from the celebration, past the winding staircase and into a room with floor to ceiling windows that cast the light of the perpetual sunset across the wooden floors. But it’s only as the worn wooden door creaks shut behind them that Riku comes to realize this, this precise moment, is the first time he and Sora have been _alone_ together since that grey beach all those months ago.

It feels like _eons_ have passed since then, so much has happened, so much has _changed,_  and he nearly buckles under the weight of that memory, the emotion consuming his heart, knowing that, even now, he’d have been be perfectly content to have spent all of eternity there, at Sora’s side in the endless dusk of that far off place.

“What’s up?” Those kind blue eyes find his, a curious smile on his lips as Sora lingers before him, unable to keep still, as usual, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. He’s still hyped up from the celebration, Riku can tell, just by the very air of him and he feels the words right there, on the tip of his tongue, warm and rising in his throat. They’ve _always_ been there, as far back as he can remember, and he’s finally, _finally_ ready to give them away.

Or so he thinks, but his lips part and all that leaves him is air, silent and useless and utterly infuriating. Soon enough, breath after wasted breath is spent just, staring at the boy in front of him with so much longing that he _aches_ from it, and it shouldn’t be like this, it shouldn’t be so difficult. After _everything_ that just happened, after all they’ve done together and apart, alone and as one.

He’s stepped into the warm, inviting shores of Sora’s heart, he’s battled the endless darkness festering in his own, faced the prospect of death, or worse, the chance of eternity trapped in _nothing,_ he survived it all and came out all the stronger for it.

So how is _this_ the hardest thing he’s ever done?

“...Riku?”

He has to say _something,_ anything. “S-Sora...Before you go I wanted to…” His voice catches as he begins, throat hot and heavy and he sounds _desperate,_ like he’s on the verge of a breakdown. Which has the absolutely unwanted effect of Sora blinking up at him, brows tightening with concern as Riku forces himself to just, keep going. Leaning forward, Riku presses both hands against Sora’s shoulders, staring into those deep indigo eyes and trying to ground himself with the touch. “I wanted to tell you that I…”

He fights, _fights_ so hard not to pull back, not to shy away from the touch, to be the one to instigate it for once. It’s been years. It’s time. He tells himself that it’s time, that he has to say it, that he’s held this inside of himself for too long, let grow and claw and fester his heart into a wound that was easily corrupted by the hands of darkness. Only to free himself from its poison grip and find that _this_ , this feeling, this _connection,_ was still there. That he didn’t squander it, didn’t recklessly destroy it.

That he didn’t lose it.

In fact, it’s stronger than it’s ever been. He can _feel_ it, thrumming in his chest, rhythmic and tangible in the air between them. “Sora...Sora I…” Why? Why can’t he _say it_ ? Why is that old terror still clinging to him, despite _everything?_

Somehow it makes him think of Roxas, lingering half alive in the shores of Sora’s heart, looking at him with those inscrutable marble eyes, asking him; “ _What are you so afraid of_?”

 _Just say it!_ “Sora, I...I-!!”

Sora leans in and pecks him softly on the lips, a smile lighting up his face, tanned cheeks dusting with red. “Yeah, Riku. I love you too.”

It breaks him.

Surging forward, Riku crushes their lips together until it dissolves into a string of uncoordinated kisses, open mouthed across Sora’s lips, his cheeks, his entire face, the keyblade master -despite what Yen Sid says, despite what anyone would _ever_ say, Sora is a true keyblade master, tests be _damned-_ laughing all the while in little inhalations, amused and affectionate and so full of emotion as his arms rise and wrap around Riku’s neck, bringing him closer while Riku whispers to him again and again, “I love you, I love you, I love you. God, Sora, I love you so much, I-”

And Sora, Sora loves him _back,_ which is more than enough to have Riku trembling, knees weak and overwhelmed with emotion. He wants to cling to Sora, wants to sob, wants to kiss his silly, goofy, _beautiful_ face until his cheeks are consumed in a blush, wants to hide away in the warmth of his heart and never, ever leave.

It was so lovely there, so peaceful, and for the first time Riku felt like he was home, _truly home_.

Shockingly, amazingly, _blessedly,_ Sora takes control of his erratic kisses, shaping them into something slower, something _deeper._ Riku can’t help but be amazed at how soft his lips are, so warm, teasing with moisture and it’s _Sora_ who shifts the energy of it all, who slides strong- _when did he get so_ **_strong_ ** _-_ arms about his shoulders to drag him in closer, forcing him to bend forward until he hears a gentle ‘thunk’ as the brunet’s back hits the wall, but he doesn’t seem to care. If anything, it only spurs him on more, a warm tongue sliding across Riku’s lip and it’s so unexpected that Riku feels his lips part in a gasp, and suddenly the taste of Sora fills his senses.

He’s reeling now, punch drunk and delirious. He must still be in Sora’s heart, he must still be somewhere in the darkness, dreaming all this up, because this can’t be real. It’s too good to be real. But he can _feel_ the scorching heat of Sora’s tongue sliding against his, can _taste_ frosting and strawberries from the celebration cake, still crumbling on his lips. It all grounds him right here in the present, undeniable proof that this is real, _it’s real_ and Sora... _Sora loves him back._

The same Sora who means more to him than anything is in his arms, humming a little noise against his lips that Riku instantly understands to be concern, edged with a touch of impatience. They spent so long apart, how is it that he can still know him so well? That he can read him so easily?

How could he have never _realized_ …?

Lithe fingers tug sharply at his hair, once, a pinching reminder that has him hissing in surprise and pulling back, breaking the kiss only to realize just how breathless he truly is. Sora is breathless too, looking up at him with flushed cheeks, chest rising and falling as his lower lip pouts defiantly. “You’re thinking too much.”

The look on his face is so familiar that Riku nearly dissolves into delighted, watery laughter. He holds it all back as much as he can, letting his lips stretch into a grin, knowing that everything he feels is clearly reflected in his eyes for Sora to see. “Oh, am I? Not all of us can just _stop thinking,_ Sora.” The teasing barb is as natural as breathing, as warm and familiar as sunlight cresting across golden shores.

The pout increases twofold, Sora opening his mouth to quip back with what Riku is sure must be a truly _scathing_ retort, (as scathing as a puppy) but he doesn’t give Sora the chance, only slams their lips together, with just a little too much force, a surprised grunt vibrating in the Sora’s throat that Riku almost pulls back to apologize for, but those those fingers are in his hair again, pulling him closer.

He _melts_ against the brunet, lets himself be tugged this way and that, back bowed over to kiss him as deeply as possible until the strain in his spine is too much and he reaches out blindly, grasping onto the bottom of Sora’s thighs and in one fluid movement, hoists him up against the wall. The impact is enough to have their lips breaking apart, gasps of hot air passing between them and Sora’s eyes grow wide and round as he stares down at him, suddenly taller than him for the first time in their lives.

Riku barely has the chance to shoot him a playful grin before Sora’s lips are attacking his own with a renewed vigor, a type of intensity that has Riku shuddering as every last crevice of his heart is filled with tingling warmth. Goosebumps rise on his bare arms as their tongues clash together and it’s messy. Messy, and wet and _hot,_ drool sliding out between their bruised lips, over his chin, hands clinging Sora’s thighs tight enough that his nails dig into the fabric of his pants. 

His knees knock against the wall at Sora’s back when he presses closer, the solid, unyielding presence keeping the brunet steady as Riku chases the taste of oversweet frosting still lingering on his tongue. Chases the taste of home, the _feeling_ of it, echoing in his heart, in the connection burning so brightly between then. It’s a physical presence now, one that he craves more than he could have ever imagined, to the point where he doesn’t realize that his lungs are burning, that he’s growing dizzy and lightheaded until their lips finally part, stomach constricting and jaw sore.

But he barely has a chance to suck in a breath because Sora’s hands fist into the collar of his vest, greedy lips colliding with his, a sound passing between them that Riku isn’t even sure who made. But it’s low and instinctual, primal, so full of want that Riku’s sure it had to have come from him. It _had to_ because he’s wanted this, _longed_ for this so many years, until it was all he could ever think about, until he _ached_ constantly for its absence.

Their lips part with a wet ‘pop’ and Riku only notices their chests are pressed against one another when he tries to breathe and feels the rise and fall of Sora’s body against his, the thudding of his rabbit heart.  The pulsing of it has him reaching out in awe, pupils blown wide, and fingers searching, sliding up the fabric of Sora’s shirt, fingertips brushing over a pebbled nipple before his palm comes to rest over the powerful drumming.

“R-Riku.” A warm, calloused hand falls atop his, the other brushing over his cheek and it’s only then does Riku realize that he’s trembling all over, barely keeping himself standing. All he can do is stare at Sora in astonishment when he takes in the brunet’s flushed cheeks, his parted, swollen lips, the sharp rise and fall of his chest as his heart beats double time beneath Riku’s palm. _Did I do that_ ? He wonders in astonishment. _Did I cause this? Can he...can he really feel this way because of_ **_me?_ **

“S-Sora…” He wants...he wants to say something, to fill the spaces between them, to find some way to convey everything he’s feeling, the tidal wave of emotion ever lingering in his throat but he can’t piece together the words, he isn’t even sure they exist, if this thing between them could actually be described.

The words ‘I love you’ can’t even _begin_ to encompass it all.

Riku decides then and there to let his actions do the talking, but just as he leans in to claim Sora’s mouth for his own, a gentle finger presses to his lips, holding him back. His first instinct is to take that digit into his mouth, suckle on it soft and slow, just taste the salt of Sora’s skin. The very thought of it makes him dizzy all over again, makes him _ache._ So much so that he almost doesn’t catch Sora calling his name, that familiar voice nearly drowned out by the still frantic beating of Sora’s heart beneath his hand.

“-when I get back.”

 _That_ has him blinking a few times, trying to reach some semblance of calm, even the slightest amount of control just to get his brain working again. “W-What?” Sora outright _giggles,_ the tease, but the sound is probably the second most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

The brunet leans closer then, impossibly closer, until their foreheads gently ‘thunk’ together. Those eyes are so close, so intense, pupils dilated and irises as blue and endless as eternity that Riku nearly loses himself in them. “I _said,_ when I get back, then we can _talk_ more about this...okay?”

“Wha...You’re...you’re leaving?” Sora snickers under his breath, lips stretching wide in a grin so familiar that Riku’s stomach flips. “Remember? I said I had to take care of something?”

“...Oh.” A beat passes where neither of them say anything, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air between them.

Then Sora’s eyes flicker away from his, down to his lips so quickly that if Riku’d chosen that moment to blink, he’d have missed it. But he didn’t, and it’s all the invitation he needs to surge forward again for another taste of those warm, parted lips. A moan vibrates between them, Sora’s voice teetering off into a whimper as their tongues slide against one another, slow and thorough. Strong thighs squeeze about his hips, pulling him in closer while familiar fingers bury into his hair and for a split second Riku finds he almost misses his long locks, almost wishes he had them back, just so he could feel Sora’s fingers gliding through them.

The kiss parts for air and Riku wastes no time in leaning in again, dragging his tongue over Sora’s swollen bottom lip, letting his teeth nip once, sharply. It has a sound caught between a yelp and a moan catching in Sora’s throat, his entire body arching against Riku’s, thighs tightening about his hips so much so that his head starts spinning, shivers tipping down his spine until Sora pulls away from his lips too soon. Way too soon. “Haaaah, okay, okay, stop. Stop, we gotta...h-holy shit, R-Riku we...we gotta...I...I gotta...leave. J-Just...just for a little while.”

Riku tries, and fails, to blink away his hazy vision, attempting to focus on the brunet in his arms and keep himself from kissing him again, no matter how much everything in him _aches_ to, no matter how absolutely, perfectly _right_ it feels. But Sora asked him to stop, so he stops, and removes himself from temptation by crushing his forehead into the hollows of Sora’s throat, closing his eyes and panting out sharp, trembling breaths against his collarbone. “Do...Do you really have to?”

Sora’s warm, bare chest is still beneath his hand, and as he feels the frantic fluttering of his heartbeat finally begin to slow, and he knows his answer. “Y-Yeah. If...if I don’t do it now then...then I’m gonna get distracted and I’ll...haaaaah...I’ll never do it and th-that’s...not nice.”

Swallowing back the urge to sigh, Riku slowly pulls away, slowly mourns the loss of Sora’s warmth beneath his hand, the weight of his thighs as they untangle from his hips. “Yeah,” He says, more to himself than anything, forcing in breath after shaking breath. “Yeah, okay.” He gently lowers the brunet back onto the ground, until their heights even out again.

Riku’s surprised when he catches how utterly disappointed Sora looks, like it was _Riku_ who just denied _him_ of everything he’s ever wanted. It’s enough to near kill him, and all he can do is huff out a breathless, trembling laugh, the hand he’d held over Sora’s heart now braced against the cool, unfeeling wall. Already he misses that steady thumping, the taste of sweets on that tongue, the sense of their hearts joining together.

“Soraaaa!!” A painfully rasping voice shouts, “Riiiku!!!”

Their eyes snap towards the door in unison, hearing the waddling steps of Donald and the uneven gait of Goofy tumbling down the stairs, their voices echoing in the massive corridor.

“Gwarsh, where’d ya think they ran off too?"

There’s silence for a long moment, before a gentle tapping at the door has them both holding their breath, but the knob doesn’t twist, not in the slightest. Instead Lea’s hushed voice sounds out, barely audible beneath the calls of Donald and Goofy. “Hurry the hell up in there, I can’t hold tweedle dum and tweedle dee off forever.”

Twin flushes burn at their cheeks, Riku’s tingling all the way to the tips of his ears, scorching uncomfortably as Lea’s footsteps retreat. A beat of silence passes while they slowly pull away from each other, nervous laughter bouncing across the small room.

But then Sora just beams up at him, still flushed with heavy breaths brushing past his lips he whispers.“...I’ll...I’ll be _right back._ ”

Riku fights the urge to close his eyes and nods, just once. “You’d better.”

Soft lips press to his own to seal it with a kiss so chaste and so sweet that Riku can’t help but smile against it.

“It’s a _promise._ ”

-END-

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr! [xenwrites.tumblr.com/](http://xenwrites.tumblr.com)


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